will, Varronius! He got past Paulus' guard! Would you like to attempt
it? Woman! How I loathe you soft, effeminate, sleek senators! You
fear death and you fear life equally! Where is Narcissus? Where are
those men who are to try to kill me at my birthday games?"

There was no answer from Narcissus. Commodus forgot him in a moment,
called for javelins and hurled them at a target, then at half-a-dozen
targets, hitting all six marks exactly in the middle as he spun himself
on one heel.

"I am in fettle!" he exclaimed, clapping the back of the senator whom he
had scurrilously insulted a moment ago. If he was conscious of applause
from the group of courtiers and gladiators he gave no sign of it. What
pleased him was his own ability, not their praises.

"Lions!" he said. "Loose that big one!"

"Paulus," a scarred veteran answered (they were all forbidden to address
him by any other name in that arena), "you have ordered us to keep that
fellow for the birthday games. If you keep killing all the best ones
off at practise, what shall we do when the day comes? The last ship-
load has arrived from Africa and already you have used up nearly half of
them. There is no chance of another cargo arriving in time for the
games. And besides, we have lacked corpses recently; that big one
hasn't tasted man's flesh. He is hungry now. He will eat whatever we
throw in, so let him taste the right meat that will make him savage."

"Loose a leopard then."

The veteran went off without a word to give his orders to the men below-